


the road to aksaray

by basketofnovas (slashmarks)



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bandits & Outlaws, Case Fic, Cunnilingus, F/F, Object Insertion, Porn With Plot, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27092194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmarks/pseuds/basketofnovas
Summary: In the early fifteenth century, in the wake of the collapse of Ottoman authority after Tamerlane's invasion, Andromache, Quynh, Nicolo and Yusuf fight bandits in Anatolia.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20
Collections: Fic In A Box





	the road to aksaray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).



> I hope my recipient enjoys this! I had fun with the historical setting.

"I don't see why Quynh gets to ride in the carriage," Nicolo said from the driver's seat. "I'd make a great Turkish princess."

"Because Quynh would make a terrible Frankish knight," Andy said.

"I'd be a perfectly good Frankish knight," Quynh weighed in from behind the fluttering silk curtains. "All you have to do is stab people and bathe infrequently. And occasionally eat someone."

"I thought we agreed not to mention the cannibalism," Nicolo said. "Which did not happen, and which I did not participate in, by the way."

"Guys," Andromache said, and pulled her hat off her head briefly to put it over her face. "Shut up. The bandits will hear you."

"Isn't that the idea?" Yusuf said.

"The idea is that the bandits will hear us riding," Quynh said before Andy strangled anyone. "Not arguing about who makes the best bait."

The idea of having _anyone_ in the carriage was that if they lost a fight, someone would be taken back to the bandits' base and held for ransom for long enough to locate it. 

"The answer is obviously me, anyway," Yusuf called from the head of the line. "I am the prettiest one here. If I was the one in the carriage, I would just have to pull my veil up when they came to kidnap me, and the sight of my beauty would make them fall down on their knees and surrender."

"Then why aren't _you_ in the carriage?" said Nicolo.

"Because that would be leading them to idolatry and sin," Yusuf said, and swore vilely as his horse startled a rabbit and shied.

"The real reason we picked Quynh is that she's the only one of you who can be quiet," Andy said, and thought longingly of the time before they had picked up the two new ones, and it had only been her and Quynh.

She didn't really miss that. She loved Quynh desperately, but one person was not enough to be an entire world. She appreciated having Yusuf and Nicolo with them; two more people, two more soldiers.

It was just that they were so goddamn young.

In the wake of Amir Timur's defeat of Sultan Bayezid at Ankara, the once relatively secure roads of Anatolia and the Balkans had again turned into a chaotic patchwork of protection zones, no man's lands and intermittent blood baths. It wasn't always easy to choose sides among the bandits and tribal armies, most of which were basically trying to keep their own homes safe and make some money to supplement the locals' devastated crops.

But as far as Andromache and Quynh were concerned, anyone habitually plundering and murdering travelers could probably stand to be, at least, deprived of their weapons. Nicolo and Yusuf had been content to take their cues from Andy and Quynh ever since they had stumbled across each other a hundred and fifty years ago. So they had bought a carriage, fixed it up with shiny paint and fake jewels, decked out Quynh in a couple of extremely expensive sets of clothing over her armor, and taken to riding the roads of Anatolia with the highest numbers of recent deaths, baiting bandits into trying to steal their treasure and presumed Turkish lady for ransom. 

It was, if nothing else, an endless source of work, and the funds the bandits had already looted were keeping them in provisions easily.

Andy still felt like they should have been trying to do something directly about Timur. She and Quynh had been in the middle of Genghis Khan's expansion for years, and they had come across a few of the battlefields Timur had left. Andy had seen fields strewn with bodies to the horizon before, but there was a scale of quantity to the Mongols that made them special. She could picture those battlefields, knowing it was still happening far away, and she felt she should have _been_ there. Quynh was a fantastic archer; she could have taken out Timur if she could just get in range.

But Genghis Khan had been before they came across the men, and these days Andy kept dreaming about Lykon. Quynh was different. Quynh had been with Andy for two thousand years; Andy felt confident she was there for good, like a piece of her own body, like her left arm or her heart beating inside her chest. She'd be pissed off at herself for years if she dragged the two younger immortals into the path of the Horde and one of them died for good. Especially with the other one around to glare accusingly for the rest of forever.

And, honestly, it was easier for four people to make a difference in anyone's life taking out bandit gangs than standing in the path of vast armies.

"Heads up," Yusuf called from point riding. Andy jerked herself out of her head and straightened in her horse.

The road was approaching what looked like the ruins of an old caravansarai, maybe from Seljuk times. It clearly wasn't operational, but it would be a good sight for an ambush. 

"Ready," Andy called softly. Nicolo and Quynh acknowledged her, Quynh inside the carriage. The curtains rippled again as she adjusted them to shoot out of.

They fell silent for real, awaiting ambush while they approached the ruins. Andy's shoulders tensed, waiting for an arrow to cut her horse out from under her any minute, or fell Yusuf or Nicolo in front of her. She hefted her own bow, touched the sword hanging from her belt. They approached the ruins, came alongside them.

Nothing moved in the ruins or between them and the horizon. The four of them might have been alone, the only living things in the world but for their horses.

They drew to the end of the ruins, then out of their shadow and away. Slowly, Andy began to relax.

"I really think we should draw lots or something as to who gets to ride in the carriage tomorrow, that dress would fit on me quite easily, the way Turks dress their women--" Nicolo started to say, and then an arrow hit him in the throat, and Andy spotted the _fucking_ archer in the tree on the other side of the ruins just as a second bandit leapt onto the roof of the carriage.

Plenty of work, she thought grimly, standing in her stirrups and pulling her bowstring back just as Quynh shot the archer out of the tree.

There were eight bandits in this particular band. Yusuf took three on horseback, charging up to the half-fallen wall they were sheltering behind and cutting them down by sword. Quynh and Andy shot out the rest, who had inferior cover, except for the first one Quynh had shot out of the tree. It turned out she had hit him in the bicep and he'd slipped. He surrendered.

"I'm sorry about your friend," he babbled, "I'm so sorry - I didn't mean to kill him--"

"You shot him in the throat," Quynh said. She had discarded the black, mask-like horsehair screen that highborn Turkish ladies wore over their faces, if she had been wearing it in the first place in the carriage. Instead she regarded him flatly over the white yashmak wound over her hair and the lower half of her face. "What did you mean to do, if not kill him?"

She was, Andy thought, incredibly beautiful like that. She wondered if she could convince Nicolo to make up for getting shot in the first ten seconds of fighting by guarding the carriage while she and Quynh had sex in it. Probably not, unfortunately.

"I'm sorry!" the bandit said, and flinched away. He obviously was not a man accustomed to being taken prisoner.

"You can help make up for it by telling us where your loot is cached," Andy said, coming up next to Quynh.

"I can't do that!" the bandit said, genuinely affronted. "The other guys in the village will kill me!"

"You said you were sorry about killing Nicolo," Quynh said. "The money will pay for his funeral." The blood drained from the bandit's face; Quynh went on mercilessly, "And his family. And his daughters."

"I have daughters also," the bandit said anxiously. "You would not want to orphan them, would you? I'll tell you where the cache is! It's more than enough of a ransom for one man! I am not important!"

"Tell us where it is," Andy said, and added in Scythian, "He has to be calm enough to give us coherent directions."

Quynh looked rebellious, but she stopped talking for long enough for Andy to work out where the cache was. They were just getting around to what was in it when Yusuf led a waking Nicolo over casually, saying, "--Cannot believe you got shot so fast, maybe we _should_ put you in the carriage next time, out of the way--"

"I was honorably serving as a decoy and you should thank me for it," Nicolo said, turning to face them. "Oh, this is the prisoner? Are you done with him, boss?"

The bandit shrieked and began to pray, loudly. 

Quynh looked annoyed. "I had convinced him the money was to pay for your funeral, you know."

"We could still hold one when we get back to the city," Nicolo offered generously. "I would be a very attractive corpse. Yusuf would enjoy weeping over my body. He could read his poetry, and Andromache could look grim and depressed."

"Stop that," Yusuf said disapprovingly to the bandit. "You know, God also disapproves of waylaying travelers and murdering them for their money."

"Please," Nicolo said, distracted by this. "As though religion ever stopped anyone who really wanted to go into a career of murder. I was a _priest_."

"You're offended when we run into Christian bandits. I will be offended by these ones."

"If you mean those idiots a century ago, they were not Christians, nobody who goes around claiming to be the messiah can possibly say--"

"We need to go look for the cache," Andy said, and then the bandit, conveniently, fainted.

"Did he just pass out from fear?" said Yusuf.

"Actually, I think it was blood loss," Quynh replied.

They argued about it some more, but they eventually bound up the bandit's arm wound, left him by the road by the bodies - it wasn't like they knew what village he was from to return him, or particularly wanted to take him prisoner - and went to find the cache within the caravansarai ruins. Any sympathy any of them might have had for the group would have evaporated once they did; it was immediately obvious that they had been murdering travelers for money in quite impressively large numbers for some time, and some of the clothing and jewelry, while precious, had obviously belonged to children.

"I hate bandits," Yusuf said, inspecting a book with a gilt cover. "This book has been treated terribly, and also I'm sure they murdered the owner."

"What is it?" Quynh asked, looking up. "Anything interesting?"

"It's a copy of Plato's _Republic_ ," Yusuf said, and sighed. "A beautiful copy, too. The scribe's hand was exquisite. Unfortunately it has also been soaked in blood and half of the writing is illegible."

"We'll buy you a new copy in Cairo or Damascus," Andy said. "You can even get that cover put on it if you want."

"I might," Yusuf said. "How does the rest of the cache rank?"

"We should be able to resupply easily, which is good, we were getting low," Andromache said, sifting through the jewelry and coins.

"Do we pack it up and set up camp?" Nicolo said.

"Not near the caravansarai, the bodies will smell," Yusuf said, setting the book back down.

Luck was with them; they found a sheltered campsite near a wide spot in a stream that could be used for bathing, so they could get the blood off thoroughly. Andy was just about to propose that she and Quynh retire back to the carriage now that they were clean when Nicolo moved first, pulling Yusuf by the wrist inside.

"Damn it," Andy said, and smiled helplessly at Quynh.

"I'm tired of sitting in that thing all day anyway," Quynh said. "Outside is fine."

"You make a compelling argument," Andy said, swam to the edge of the wading pool where Quynh was sitting on the bank, and took a hold of her ankle as an anchor.

"I like you there," Quynh said, and bent double so they could just reach to kiss. Andy grabbed Quynh's knee with her other hand, braced her elbow on the bank, and leaned in closer, kissing her knee, her thigh, and over her clit.

"Oh," Quynh sighed, and leaned back on her elbows.

Andromache never got tired of this, no matter how many years it had been, how many times. She licked over Quynh's labia, then slid her tongue between them, tasting salt. She felt Quynh sigh again, deeper, a movement that trembled through her. 

Quynh shifted her legs, stirring the water around Andy and making her shift her grip. She felt the callouses on Quynh's heels digging into her lower back and groaned into her clit, making Quynh shiver in reciprocity. She sucked at Quynh's clit and dug her fingers into the muscles of her calf and thigh, pressed skin to skin, slick with stream water and cut by scars, until Quynh gasped and shivered and came, toes digging into Andy's back in return.

After Andy let go of her legs and ducked under the water briefly, rinsing her face before surfacing. "That sounded good," she said to Quynh, who was lying flat on her back on the bank.

"It was," Quynh said, sighing happily. "You're so good at that. Go get me my saddlebags? I don't think I can walk."

Andy had cut her hair short again, but Quynh's was always long. She usually kept it braided on the trail. They sat together on the bank of the wading pool, naked and drying in the summer heat, and Andy unraveled the tightened braids inch by inch until she could start washing them. Quynh went limp by inches, until she was lying like a cat, face down in Andy's lap.

"You're going to have to get up again eventually," Andy said when she was done, rubbing her fingers through Quynh's hair and scratching at the scalp.

"Not unless we're attacked by more bandits," Quynh muttered. "Not until Nicolo and Yusuf are done in the damn carriage, anyway." She paused. "I'm making them wash the bedding in there when they're done."

"That sounds very fair," Andy said, rubbing Quynh's neck.

"You know what else would be fair?" Quynh turned her head and grinned up at Andy through strands of dark, wet hair. "Pass me the saddle bag and lie down," she said, and sat up.

Andy leaned back. She watched Quynh open the saddle bag, bend over it; watched the muscles in her shoulder and back ripple with her movement and the wet hair falling to her lap, and thought, one more time, how lucky she had been. The first immortal she met might have been someone she couldn't stand, might have hated her, might not have liked women...

Quynh looked up, like she could tell Andy was thinking about her, and smiled, slowly. "Close your eyes," she said.

Andromache closed her eyes. She felt the heat of Quynh's skin a moment before she pressed into Andy, kissing her again. One hand worked its way between her legs. Quynh cupped Andy's vulva, making her shiver and press into it. Then she took her hand away and Andy whined.

"Patience," Quynh said, softly. Andy heard her digging in the saddle bag, very near her head, and shivered. Something smooth and cool trailed over her shoulder, between her breasts and down her rib cage, raising goosebumps in its wake. 

"What is that?" Andy said, trying to picture its shape from the way it turned as Quynh ran it down the hollow of her hip, trying to decide how large it was. "A bottle..."

"Mhmm," Quynh said, and ran it through Andy's labia. She moaned; it was a few fingers thick, not large, but--

"Is that the bottle you keep your hair oil in?"

"Quiet." Quynh took it from between Andy's legs and put it to her lips instead. Andy opened them, licking it clean. "But, yes, it is," she said. "How much of this saddle bag do you think I can fit into you at once?"

"Mm!" Andy groaned, bracing her feet on the ground of the bank as Quynh played the rounded bottom of the bottle against her entrance. "How big is this bag, again?"

"You'll find out," Quynh said, voice lilting wickedly, and thrust the bottle inside. 

Andy moaned and bucked her hips.

The answer turned out to be several objects at once: Quynh thrust the handle of a brush in, stretching Andy around it, the bottle and a third object Andy hadn't been able to identify, stretching her, making her dig her toes into the earth under her and groan. She kept picturing herself, Quynh's hand buried in her, herself straining to take another object. Quynh fucked her with the handle, working it in and out, and buried her mouth over Andy's left breast, and she came, gasping and raking the ground under her with her fingers and her feet.

"Fuck," Andy said, turning her head to the side and opening her eyes to squint hazily up at Quynh. "You come up with awful ideas when you're stuck in the carriage all day."

"You love it," Quynh said.

"Yes. I do. We should use these plans more often," Andy said.

They rinsed off in the wading pool again, and washed the contents of the saddle bag. By then Nicolo and Yusuf had come out of the carriage and were bathing again themselves.

"I was thinking we could go to Aksaray to resupply," Andy said, sitting on the bank while she dried off. "It's near here, and we might pick up another real job."

"Aksaray is a caravan staging point," Yusuf said. "We could take protection work. People need it these days."

"It might be nice to go home for a while," Andy said, thoughtfully. They hadn't been to Central Asia since Nicolo and Yusuf joined them. "They say Amir Timur allows traders."

"And if not, that's work for us," Quynh said, leaning over to kiss Andy's shoulder.

They laid bedding out under the sky that night. Andy buried her face in Quynh's hair, sweet smelling after being washed. She thought about how the stars, one of the few consistent landmarks in the steppes, changed at home; about where they would be at this time of year. She thought about grasslands that stretched as far as the eye could see. She thought about how long it had been.

In the morning they secured the cache of valuables in a hidden compartment in the carriage, gathered up the bedding they had washed in the stream while they were camped, and left again on the road for Aksaray. Of course they got all of two days down the road before they were attacked by _more_ bandits.


End file.
